


That Look of Joy

by Contesa_lui_Alucard



Category: Tracks (2013)
Genre: Erections, F/M, Mentions of Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contesa_lui_Alucard/pseuds/Contesa_lui_Alucard
Summary: Rick loves photography, but he's always behind the camera. This time you decide to try and capture him in his element. Modern Rick set in my Through My Viewfinder universe but it is not necessary for you to have read that in order to enjoy this.
Relationships: Rick Smolan/You, rick smolan/reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	That Look of Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This was written to fulfill a request I received. I hope you enjoy!

Tomorrow was set to be the first snowfall of the season, as Rick had excitedly informed you of that morning, and so the day was spent in preparation. It wouldn’t be much, maybe a few inches at most, and snow didn’t exactly stick around long in New York City to begin with, but the preparations weren’t for enduring the snow. The preparations, as Rick explained in great, quickly conveyed detail, were for a shoot he wanted to do with you not far from your now shared Brooklyn loft.

“I thought maybe we could go to Charlotte Beach, you know, over on 8th street? Between the water, the sand, the Manhattan Skyline, it’ll be perfect, just perfect,” he explains as he sits on the floor of your living room, hunched over while digging lenses out of one of his storage cases, “We should have a few hours before it stops, maybe we’ll try to do two outfits. Three outfits? We might not have enough time for three outfits, but if I’m quick, I’ll be quick, bring three outfits.” Technically he’s talking to you, but you know how Rick gets, when a good shoot is within his grasp. You let him puzzle out all of the little details while you sit curled up on the couch with a mug of warm tea between your hands.

He pops up off the floor, sliding the lens case back onto its shelf before he’s off to check if his lights and boards are all properly packed. You can still see him from your spot on the couch, and just as he’s zippering up the pack you call to him, “Ricky? Your tea is getting cold.” Rick stops to meet your eyes for a moment, seeming to absorb what it is you’ve told him, head turning to look off in another direction before turning back to you. Then he’s bounding over to the couch, taking the offered mug with a grateful little smile, “Thank you, bunny,” before downing it like a shot of tequila and scampering off again.

“Maybe bring that red velvet dress,” he calls over his shoulder from where he’s now kneeling over his tripod, “Oh! And the blue one! You know, the one with the ties? Those will look really festive, and they’ll make the snowflakes really stand out.”

You chirp your agreement to him, and he smiles at you with a satisfied nod, “Perfect,” before he’s up and off to another part of the apartment.

Even after he has finished preparing his gear and comes back to rejoin you on the couch, he’s discussing poses he’d like you to try, angles he thinks would capture the background best, what time of day will offer the best light. That evening over dinner he’s telling you about a great shoot he did a few years ago with some children he came across having a snowball fight, how much he loved the pure joy he captured on their faces. You know what he means, because the pure joy you get to see written all over his face when he’s doing what he loves, takes your breath away.

When you wake up early the next morning, you can already feel that damp chill in the air. Rick slumbers next to you peacefully, exhausted from all of his preparations, and from the vigorous lovemaking you did late last night, both of you still naked from the steamy affair. Although things are much less steamy now, and as you shift to sit up, the blankets pooling in your lap, you shiver at the loss of his comforting warmth. He feels your loss immediately, a hand reaching out to find you as his eyes squeeze and flutter, “Bunny?” his sleep-roughened voice croaks, and you stroke a gentle hand through his soft black hair, “I’m right here,” you reply, turning to look towards the curtain-wall windows at the sight that you know is going to have Rick turning inside out.

Big, fat snowflakes fall steadily from the light gray sky, you take a moment to appreciate them before turning back to your man, who has now begun to blink his eyes open. He hasn’t seen the windows yet though, his gaze solely on you, and you lean down to kiss him awake. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his soft, warm chest, and it doesn’t take long for all of him to wake up, as is evidenced by the tapping of something hard and velvety at your tummy. But as much as you would love to give him a complete wake up, you know he’ll want to see what’s begun to sprinkle down outside, so reluctantly you pull away. He whines at the loss of you, needy for your wet warmth, but when you turn his head to the side, it’s worth missing out on more of his excellent cock.

Rick’s eyes go wide and immediately a hand darts out to find his glasses, shoving them on to his face with little ceremony as he sits up in bed, taking you with him.  
“It’s, it’s perfect, it’s perfect!” he excitedly exclaims, turning to you with a giant grin, “Bunny, look! Do you see that? Perfect flakes! This shoot is going to turn out amazing! Come on, let’s get dressed and get out there before the weather changes.”

You two do just that, grabbing the bags and rushing out the door, making the quick trek to the beach in record time, although you’re a bit breathless by the time you arrive. Rick quickly begins to set everything up, and you watch him as he works, entranced by the utter joy and confidence he exudes. Quietly you pull out your phone, and find a good angle. He’s hunched over his camera bag, glancing up towards the Manhattan skyline, a few fat snowflakes caught in his raven hair, when you snap your first picture. He doesn’t notice, too busy planning things out, so you wait until he’s done searching through the bag and is instead setting up his light stands. He’s standing there, tall and proud, screwing the poles into place, looking up into the sky, when you snap your next shot. Again, the action goes unnoticed, so you wait for him to reposition himself once more, this time to set up his tripod and mount his camera. He’s looking through the viewfinder, adjusting the zoom, when you snap your shot, but this time when he pulls away, he notices, “What are you doing over there, Bunny?” he asks with a shy little smile.

“Just doing some shooting of my own,” you shrug playfully as you tuck your phone back into your bag. Rick lets it go, taking your face into his hands and giving you a big, wet kiss before the final preparations are made and the shoot begins.

That night, long after you two finished your shoot and have since spent the last few hours warming up on the couch with some hot cocoa, you sneak away to print out your secret photos. You spend a moment admiring them, loving how clear the joy and pride is on Rick’s handsome face. He looks so handsome, so confident, he’s every inch the man you know and love, thriving in his element. When you return to the couch with the photos and hand them to Rick, he looks up at you confusedly at first, before studying them. His expression softens, the smile on his face humble, as he takes them in. “You took these?” he asks, glancing up at you. You nod your head yes, and he begins to hold them up at different angles, “These came out incredible, Bunny. You took these with your phone? The lighting is perfect, and I love how you captured the snowflakes and the skyline. Look at this, I love this angle, this one right here is so dynamic. There’s only one problem,” he says, not looking at you, but biting his lip before he continues, “You need a better model. I’ll give you my model’s phone number, she’s great, photographs beautifully, and is just simply amazing to work with.”

When he finally meets your eyes again, he’s grinning sheepishly, and you can’t help but drop back down on the couch and smack him in the arm, “You’re a perfect model, Rick, stop that. I love how you look in these photos,” you say earnestly, taking his face in your hands to give him a kiss, “I love how you look all the time, but especially here, especially when you’re in your element.” He reciprocates the kiss, brushing his plump pink lips against yours, only pulling away to murmur, “I still think you’re a better model,” before diving back in to reclaim your lips once more.


End file.
